


Imitation

by OnstageSport



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: (Like that's basically the whole plot), Internalized Homophobia, M/M, dub-con kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnstageSport/pseuds/OnstageSport
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kevin finds himself having gay thoughts, he turns to the resident expert on them to sort them out and ends up getting more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imitation

Although it was long past curfew, Kevin stood outside Elder McKinley’s door for at least ten minutes as he debated whether or not to knock on it. He knew that he was meant to go to the District Leader with any problems he had, and in this particular case Elder McKinley was certainly the most qualified to help him.  
  
The problem was that in the last few weeks since his Hell Dream, his mind was plagued by an alarming number of gay thoughts. _Why_ had there been so much gay sex in his mind’s version of Hell? Why was _his father_ involved? Why was _Hitler_? Or Elder McKinley—okay, so he kind of knew why Elder McKinley was there; because _he_ was the one who had even brought up gay thoughts in the first place.  
  
Kevin finally made a decision: he raised his hand and knocked, his heart sinking as soon as the sharp raps met his ears. He supposed it wasn't too late to just go back to his own room and ignore this issue for a little longer. If Elder McKinley answered the door and saw nobody there then he would likely just think he’d been hearing things and pay it no mind. But if he answered the door with Kevin still standing there, he would either have to see this through or take a page out of Arnold’s book (though obviously not their _actual_ Book) and come up with a fictional problem with which to bother his District Leader.  
  
Before Kevin could determine which of these was the better option, the door opened, revealing a sleepy Elder Thomas sporting some impressive bedhead and a pair of too-long pajamas, which surely belonged to Elder McKinley, with the ends of the pants safety pinned up so he could walk without tripping and the sleeves hanging down over his hands. (Kevin was secretly pleased to see that he and Arnold weren’t the only ones who still hadn’t retrieved their suitcases from the General’s lair or else PopTarts would be wearing clothes that actually _fit him_ instead of spares from the only suitcase that had been untouched.)  
  
Kevin was grateful for his decision to put his uniform back on after he had chosen to come bother his District Leader about his problem. Otherwise, it would be very inappropriate to solicit Elder McKinley’s advice— _especially_ about gay thoughts— while clad in nothing but his undergarments.  
  
“Elder Price?” the short Elder asked, stifling a yawn. He didn’t ask what Kevin wanted but told him, “I’ll get him.”  
  
Without another word, Elder Thomas retreated into the bedroom and gently shook his mission companion awake. The redhead jerked at the touch.  
  
“Oh, I…I didn't mean to…again,” Kevin heard from just outside the doorway. He frowned when he realized that the District Leader probably thought that he’d woken his companion by reacting to his Hell Dream. More unsettling was that Elder McKinley had the Dream often enough for him to wake Elder Thomas more than once. Was that what was in store for him if he couldn’t take control of these gay thoughts?  
  
“Elder Price?” the sleep-ridden voice of Elder McKinley reached him, and Kevin snapped out of his wondering. He stepped into the bedroom with only a moment of trepidation and saw Elder McKinley sitting up on his bed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, illuminated by a battery-operated lantern on the floor between the beds. “What’s the matter?”  
  
Kevin hesitated in answering. Instead, he swallowed hard and cast a sideways glance at Elder Thomas, who had returned to his own bed.  
  
“I…um, it’s…it’s kind of a personal issue?” he tried. Maybe that would be enough to usher Elder Thomas out of the room. It was, but the shorter missionary didn’t leave without an exaggerated groan at the situation.  
  
“Elder Price, come in,” Elder McKinley beckoned once his companion was gone, the yawn he fought off at the end of the sentence the only indication that he had just woken up.  
  
Kevin gripped the doorknob and pulled the door shut as he made his way further into the room. It looked nearly identical to the one he shared with Arnold, except there was a desk against the wall opposite their beds and cleaner since, unlike Arnold, Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas didn’t leave a bunch of loose paper around claiming that it _was_ organized.  
  
Kevin hesitated by the doorway, still glancing around the room and observing it, before hearing Elder McKinley indicate for him to take a seat on Elder Thomas’s bed.  
  
When Kevin sat down on the mattress, his legs hanging off it and facing towards the other Elder, that’s when he knew that he really was stuck. He couldn’t say “Oh, never mind,” because that would just worry Elder McKinley (and a fretful Elder McKinley was not what he wanted) and he couldn’t _lie_ because then he would _definitely_ have another Hell Dream because of it, and who could tell how horrible that one would be?  
  
“Now, Elder Price, what seems to be the problem?”  
  
“I…” _I think I’m having gay thoughts_. It shouldn’t be that difficult to say. If he could admit it to himself, then he should be able to admit it to Elder McKinley, who, of all of the others on the mission, would understand. Then, inspiration struck him. “You remember your friend?”  
  
Elder McKinley cocked his head and scrunched his eyebrows down, his lips pursing in his confusion.  
  
“My friend?” he repeated.  
  
Kevin frowned. Elder McKinley was supposed to just know who he was talking about so he wouldn't have to clarify.  
  
“Your friend Steve?” he tried again.  
  
This time, Elder McKinley didn’t say anything but judging from his slightly widened eyes, tightened jaw, averted eyes, and the distinct bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard, Kevin knew that he definitely remembered.  
  
A moment of silence fell over them as Kevin waited for the confirmation.  
  
“What…what about him?” Elder McKinley finally asked in barely more than a whisper, unable to bring himself to look back at Kevin.  
  
Now it was Kevin’s turn to hesitate, inciting yet another awkward lull in their conversation as he figured out how he wanted to phrase his issue.  
  
“I…I think I have a Steve?” he admitted at the same volume.  
  
This caught Elder McKinley’s attention and he slowly looked at Kevin with a mixture of…Kevin couldn’t quite tell. It looked like reverence _and_ sadness somehow.  
  
“Elder Price,” he began, slowly nodding as he spoke as though figuring out the words as they passed from his brain to his lips. “I know that a lot of things here, in Uganda, can be…confusing, especially because, well—but,” he smiled as warmly as he could manage and gently placed a comforting hand on Kevin’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. “You aren’t gay.”  
  
Somehow that oh-so-wonderful attempt at consoling him didn’t actually make Kevin feel any better.  
  
“But, I am?” Kevin insisted though he wasn’t actually sure what he was. “I mean, I think I am.”  
  
Elder McKinley sighed and shook his head.  
  
“Listen to me, Elder Price, you aren’t the kind of person to be like thiii-is.” He cringed as he completed the final word as he had drawn it out for too long to change it into a different and less self-incriminating one. He recollected himself with a fast shake of his head and he continued, “And even if you _were_ —”  
  
“Which I am,” Kevin interrupted gloomily. At least, he was pretty sure. Why else would he be suffering from the gay thoughts?  
  
“—it would be extremely hard to fix _here_ ,” Elder McKinley continued as if he hadn't even heard the interruption.  
  
Kevin’s ears perked up at the prospect of it being fixed. He couldn’t go through another one hundred weeks worrying about being _gay_ in _Uganda_ , especially near the end when Elder McKinley, the only other one who would understand, would be gone.  
  
“Do you know how to?” he asked urgently, grabbing Elder McKinley’s shoulders.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Do you know how to fix this? This…being like this?” Kevin spelled it out.  
  
“Oh,” Elder McKinley frowned. “It didn’t…It doesn’t work.”  
  
Kevin set his jaw stubbornly. If there was going to be anybody who _could_ make it work, it would be him. So, maybe he’d fallen from his position as the best Elder that the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints had ever seen but that didn’t mean that he stopped being able to do anything he put his mind to.  
  
“Elder McKinley,” he began firmly, leaning forward. “You _do_ know a way, right?”  
  
Elder McKinley repeated again that it didn’t work, even when it was done properly.  
  
“This has only been happening for a few weeks so maybe it’s not-” Kevin cut himself off of his next attempt at persuading Elder McKinley to provide him assistance. He didn’t need to be alienating the only person who could help by implying that he had been beyond help.  
  
“Not…what?” Elder McKinley asked before his eyes widened with realization. His voice got low and breathy as he finished Kevin’s sentiment. “It’s not too late for you.”  
  
“So?” Kevin prompted. He couldn’t be gay. Not in Uganda. Not now. If Elder McKinley could help him fix it for even just a couple of years then he could deal with it at a later time.  
  
“So?” Elder McKinley repeated, confused by the question. “Oh! Yes…yes, I’ll help you. I’ll try. We don't really have anything though…”  
  
Kevin nodded in understanding. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen or what they would need that they didn’t have, but if a substitution could help just as much, then fine.  
  
Elder McKinley didn’t move for a while and Kevin doubted that he was even going to help but all of a sudden he changed from sitting on his own bed to joining Kevin on Elder Thomas’s.  
  
“Are you ready, Elder Price?” he asked in just above a whisper, his voice wavering only slightly. Was…was he trying to be sexy, speaking in a breathy tone and sitting so close to him and practically glowing in the faint lantern light, or was he just so nervous about what was about to happen that he couldn’t use his usual voice? Kevin honestly couldn’t tell and that didn’t help his case. Nonetheless, he nodded, sure that his heart was only beating in his throat due to his nerves and anticipation.  
  
Without warning, Elder McKinley pressed his lips to Kevin’s softly, hesitant about if he should really be doing this. Kevin’s breath hitched in surprise and it took a few seconds before he realized that, if he were to not give into his gay thoughts, he would need to stop kissing Elder McKinley and pulled back in shock.  
  
“How was _that_ supposed to help?!” he demanded with wide eyes and an even faster heartbeat threatening to burst from his chest. God, now he could feel Elder McKinley’s phantom lips on his and, if he had let it go on for a second longer, he was sure that he would be able to _taste_ him too. Was he trying to make him _more_ gay?!  
  
“You didn’t let me get to the part that is supposed to help,” Elder McKinley explained quickly, his words spilling out of his mouth before Kevin could berate him again. “Do you want me to help or not, Elder Price?”  
  
Kevin was silent for a few seconds, thinking. Was he willing to risk acting on his gay thoughts in order to cure himself of them?  
  
“Well?” Elder McKinley prompted when he hadn’t received an answer.  
  
Kevin nodded and told him that he was ready to try it again, now that he knew what was going to happen.  
  
Elder McKinley took a deep breath and repeated the action, this time with a little bit more confidence than before. Kevin felt a tingle run up his spine as he let it continue and he could tell that that was _not_ a good thing, no matter how nice it felt. His eyes fluttered shut.  
  
Lacking in the materials he needed, Elder McKinley was forced to improvise. He had to create a negative stimulus to accompany any sort of gay action, so he raised his hand and slapped Kevin across the face.  
  
“Ah! What the fuck?!” Kevin exclaimed as he jerked away from his district leader again. “You _hit_ me?!”  
  
Although Elder McKinley regretted it because he had just hurt one of the Elders under his care, held his head high and kept a stony expression plastered on his face as he nodded slowly. It was what needed to be done. For Elder Price’s sake.  
  
“Yes, I did,” he confirmed with a careful, even tone. He had to seem unaffected by this even if his own heart was beating out of control.  
  
“What the _fuck?_ ” Kevin repeated, rubbing at his cheek. “ _Why?_ ”  
  
Elder McKinley stalled before replying, not entirely sure of how to explain why he had smacked him.  
  
“Well, do you want to kiss me again?”  
  
“You’re going to hit me again, so no,” Kevin grumbled. _Obviously_. Though he had to admit to himself that, if he wouldn’t get slapped in the face, he would willingly kiss Elder McKinley again. It had been pretty nice up until the slapping part. “Besides, _you_ kissed _me_.”  
  
Elder McKinley sighed. He doubted that one slap in the face was enough to turn Kevin away from gay thoughts forever, but now that Kevin wasn’t going to let him kiss him he would need to find a new tactic.  
  
“Elder Price,” he began softly, reaching over to take his hand, but not quite getting there.  
  
“Kevin,” Kevin corrected, interrupting the action. When Elder McKinley blinked in surprise, he explained that that was his first name and anybody who’s kissed him should probably know his first name.  
  
“Of course I _know_ your first name,” Elder McKinley scoffed, shaking his head. “As the leader of this district, I have a roster!” He paused for a moment, realizing the significance of why Kevin had told him. “Connor.”  
  
Kevin nodded in understanding. _Connor. Connor McKinley_. That was a nice name.  
  
“Connor,” he repeated, letting it roll over his tongue and weigh on his lips. A tiny spark ignited inside him at the intimacy that only Elder McKinley’s companion was allowed. His mouth tugged into a smile; it was like he had gained entrance into some sort of elite club.  
  
Elder McKinley—Connor, as now Kevin allowed himself to address him in his mind— slid his hand the rest of the way to Kevin’s and took it in his own.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Oh, no, I didn’t…I was just—” What could he possibly say? ‘Testing out your name?’ Instead of finishing the excuse he had yet to form, Kevin glanced down at their clasped hands. His stomach churned warmly as Connor’s body heat radiated into his own palm. His tongue inadvertently skidded over his lower lip. “Um…What are you doing?”  
  
“Why don’t you tell me about your Steve?” Connor prompted, nodding with a false smile and encouraging eyes.  
  
Kevin’s heart plummeted through the floor. He came here to _escape_ the gay thoughts—though maybe turning to the cause of them wasn’t the greatest idea but it was his only option—not to _talk_ about them.  
  
“It’ll help,” Connor insisted in a slight sing-song. Kevin was hardly inclined to believe it, especially if it were a method that Connor himself had used, but he would be the one to make it work. Something had to.  
  
Kevin still didn’t respond to the suggestion so Connor prompted him a third time, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.  
  
“I just don't think that’s a very good idea,” Kevin managed to explain, shaking his head. How could he possibly tell Connor that the person who had sparked the gay thoughts in the first place was _him?_  
  
“Try me,” Connor smiled.  
  
Kevin glanced at him dubiously as he considered his options. If he refused, he would never know if it might have helped. If he talked about it, though, Connor would figure out that he was the one causing the problem and not just fixing it. With a sigh, Kevin decided to at least see where Connor was going with this exercise.  
  
“Um, okay. So, he…Wait, what do you want to know?”  
  
“Anything,” Connor shrugged. “What you like about him. How he makes you feel. What you’d like to do together. I don’t know. Anything.”  
  
Kevin frowned. ‘I don’t know.’ How could Connor just not know what he was asking of him?  
  
“Well, I guess I-wait, you’re just going to hit me again,” Kevin accused, tugging at his hand but Connor kept it tight in his grip.  
  
“Do you trust me?” Connor asked, gently stroking his thumb across the back of Kevin’s hand. And, though in the moment Kevin wished he didn’t, he did in fact trust Elder McKinley.  
  
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Sure.” Just because he trusted him didn’t mean he had to like the potential of being slapped in the face again.  
  
“Well, then go on.”  
  
“So…what I like about him. He…” Kevin averted his eyes to stare at the juncture of the wall and the ceiling, suddenly very interested in the crease there. “Well, he’s um…passionate?”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And…he’s really dedicated and kind and I guess he’s funny sometimes. But mostly the first ones.”  
  
Connor frowned at Kevin, evidently dissatisfied with the response.  
  
_Well, if he wanted something specific, he shouldn’t have said “Anything,”_ Kevin huffed inside his mind.  
  
“Maybe you don’t…maybe you don’t _like_ him, then,” Connor suggested with a nod. Kevin thought he heard a twinge of disappointment in the other Elder’s voice but he didn’t mention it.  
  
“No, no. I definitely do,” Kevin insisted. Connor quirked his brow as if asking for proof and, with a sigh, Kevin complied. “I like him. More than the other Elders. Heck, more than Arnold, who’s my best friend.”  
  
“Why?” Connor probed. “Why do you think of him differently?”  
  
“Because. He…I don’t know, okay? He just…he looks really nice and I never _noticed_ that kind of thing before but—ow! _Ow!_ ”  
  
Kevin looked down at the pain in his hand and realized that Connor was pinching his skin between his nails. Kevin yanked his hand out of Connor’s grasp. He examined at the small mark Connor had left, biting his lower lip.  
  
“Kevin,” Connor stated with a disturbingly even tone. “If you want me to help you, you need to keep talking.”  
  
“Fine. What were the other things? What I want to do with him? I—”  
  
He realized that he had never actually thought about what he’d like to do with Connor. Most of his gay thoughts had been simply about noticing, observing little things that he had never seen before, like that when Connor’s hair caught the sunlight _just_ right it turned his ginger hair golden and looked like he had a little halo, that Connor’s eyes absolutely sparkled if anyone mentioned cats, that he wrinkled his nose when he found something really funny.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Kevin admitted.  
  
A moment of silence followed the confession and Kevin could see the wheels churning in Connor’s head. Finally, he slipped his hand out of Kevin’s and Kevin felt a twinge of guilt for immediately missing the intimacy of it.  
  
Connor’s hand reappeared at the back of his head, his fingers carding at the hair. The sudden touch made Kevin jerk upwards with an embarrassing squeak that he would deny ever happened.  
  
“This?” Connor asked lowly as he stroked Kevin’s hair. Under ordinary circumstances, Kevin would have protested it but Connor’s hands were so soothing and his face so warm and— dare he say it?—loving that he couldn’t bring himself to.  
  
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confessed. Now, though, it was all he could think about. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d let him do this.”  
  
That, apparently, was the wrong answer as Connor rewarded him with another slap. He sucked in a gasp but tightened his jaw. He should have expected it but he had let himself be lulled into a false sense of security as Connor played with his hair.  
  
Connor’s hand slipped down Kevin’s neck to his shoulder, where his thumb stroked a circular pattern. Kevin could feel his tongue skirt across his lips, which probably gave the wrong impression—or the right one, he still was figuring it out.  
  
Kevin could do nothing but stare at Connor, barely a foot away from him an illuminated by nothing but the cheap lantern. His skin looked pallid and the light washed out his freckles but the light was giving his hair a slight silvery halo and Kevin couldn’t help but smile. How did he manage to look good in even the worst lighting? And the fact that Connor was staring back at him with the same odd combination of hope and sadness wasn’t helping anything.  
  
“You…um…want to know what else I’d like to do?” Kevin asked just above a whisper.  
  
“Please.” It was too breathy a request to be simply for information.  
  
This one syllable was all it took for Kevin to initiate something gay. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them and capturing Connor’s lips again in one motion.  
  
Connor gasped into his mouth as he sat frozen for half a second before succumbing and melting into the kiss. It was only when his eyes were partway closed that he remembered that he was meant to be punishing Kevin for even having these gay thoughts not to mention _acting_ on them. His brain wasn’t working fast enough to control his arm to slap Kevin again so he did the only thing he could think of and ended up biting at Kevin’s lip.  
  
Kevin squeaked in surprise and pulled away from the kiss but instead of looking horrified and hurt, his pupils were blown wide and his jaw was slightly slack. Connor blinked back at him, trying to understand why he wasn’t more upset about being bit.  
  
A long silence passed and Kevin stood up and crossed to the door in order to leave, having given up on this. Obviously, just like everything else he tried to do in Uganda, he wasn’t the right person to make this method work.  
  
_If this were happening to Arnold, **he’d** probably get it to work. Because that was just how life **was.**_  
  
“Elder Price?” Connor asked, twisting around on Elder Thomas’s bed to watch him leave.  
  
“This isn’t working,” Kevin justified angrily. “It’s too late for me too. You were right. This crap doesn't work.”  
  
“No, no!” Connor shook his head. “It just takes time.”  
  
Kevin gave him a wary glance from the doorway.  
  
“Look, it’s late. Why don’t you come back tomorrow night and we’ll try again? Okay, Elder Price?”  
  
Kevin frowned but agreed. Maybe Connor was wrong about it not working. He had his doubts but he’d been willing to try it so far.  
  
~  
  
And so it went. Night after night, long after their curfew, Kevin would meet with Elder McKinley—most often in the communal living area, crammed onto the sofa as they tangled with each other so as not to disturb either of their companions—and they would kiss and it would only worsen his gay thoughts so he would get slapped or pinched or bitten or any other method Connor could conceive to inflict pain. There was one point when he had harshly yanked on Kevin’s hair, so hard that a few brunet bristles had come out in his hand.  
  
And still, nothing that he did was effective against Kevin’s persistent gay thoughts. One night, after a week and a half of secret meetings and fumbling in the dark, Kevin didn’t show up in the communal area. Connor waited patiently on the sofa for at least ten minutes before stealthily creeping down the hall to Kevin and Elder Cunningham’s room.  
  
He hesitated before knocking. What if Elder Cunningham answered the door instead? How could he possibly explain his reasoning for calling upon Kevin past curfew?  
  
He praised the Lord that Kevin was the one to answer. While there was not much light in the hallway and rooms, there was enough to determine that Kevin was dressed only in his underwear—and not even his temple garments, just…he was just in boxers! _That_ was certainly against the rules! (Though, really, how could Connor claim to enforce the rules when he was calling upon Kevin for the sole purpose of asking why they weren’t participating in gay activities, which was a much more grievous offense than simply foregoing proper attire every once in a while?)  
  
“Elder McKinley?” Kevin asked, he supposed for the second or third time based on the inflection. Connor would swear that he wasn’t distracted by Kevin’s lack of clothing, just taken aback though the distinct rising heat in his face seemed to suggest otherwise.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I just—where are your clothes?” Connor asked. He understood that it was hot but surely temple garments would have been good enough.  
  
Kevin glanced down at himself, almost as if he had forgotten his state of nudity. In his sleepiness, he must have lost all sense of embarrassment because now that it was pointed out to him, he tensed up and all but slammed the door in Connor’s face.  
  
It wasn’t too long before he returned but it certainly felt like an eternity with Connor waiting in the hallway. His mind played through every scenario that could take place while the door was closed. Ultimately, he had come up with seven possibilities, which were representative of each of the other Elders who could pass by and see him there.  
  
But none of those happened. He just stood there, waiting, until Kevin reopened the door, this time in full uniform sans tie, name badge, and belt.  
  
“Oh, much better,” Connor nodded approvingly. The familiar way in which his stomach flipped, however, indicated that he was lying to himself. Morally, having more clothes on _was_ much better.  
  
“What’s going on, Connor?” Kevin asked, sleep still creeping into his voice and making it slightly hoarse. He stepped outside his room and closed the door behind him so that the conversation wouldn’t wake Arnold.  
  
“Oh, um—”  
  
_I thought we were going to continue our project.  
  
You didn't show up for our meeting.  
  
I missed you.  
  
I was just wondering why weren’t kissing._  
  
“—I didn’t know where you were.”  
  
Gosh, could that have sounded any more pathetic. It was like he was a lost child in search of his parent.  
  
Kevin sighed. So he hadn’t simply forgotten about their secret rendezvous—he had deliberately left Connor hanging.  
  
“Kevin?” the district leader asked, trying not to sound at all hurt or betrayed.  
  
“Look, Elder, I don’t think it’s working,” Kevin admitted with a shake of his head.  
  
“It just takes time!” Connor insisted. “And I’m really trying my best, I don’t have anything that I can actually _hurt_ you with.”  
  
“I know you are, but it’s not-” Kevin frowned, chuckled at the ridiculousness of what he was about to say, and continued. “It’s not you, it’s me.”  
  
Connor blanched, not quite understanding. Was Kevin…breaking up with trying to be fixed?  
  
“I’m sorry? Are…Are you no longer interested in…” he waved his hand, unsure of what to call his attempts to make Kevin straight again.  
  
Before Connor could think of the proper title, Kevin interrupted to explain that, “It’s just…we’re too close.”  
  
Connor furrowed his brow in confusion. Wasn’t that a _good_ thing, being close to accomplishing their goal?  
  
“What do you mean?” Connor asked. “That means that it’s working? That we’re close to fixing it?”  
  
Kevin shook his head and sighed again.  
  
“No,” he asserted before explaining. “I mean that _we’re_ too close. We do all this stuff at night and then pretend it didn't happen during the day because we’re going to be doing it again that night and nothing’s getting better. It’s worse.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Connor asked. Surely it couldn’t have been that much worse.  
  
“Doing these…these things with you,” Kevin tried to clarify, scrunching his face in concentration as he searched for the right words. “It’s…distracting, that’s what it is! I can’t focus on spreading our made up religion because instead of listening to whatever my mission companion is saying, I’m thinking about you! _Plus_ , I can't keep expecting him to believe that it's my _pillow_ messing up my face! I was—well, I wasn’t _fine_ before, but I was better back then! Now I’m gayer for you than when we started!”  
  
Connor blinked in confusion. He ought to have focused on Kevin’s meaning as a whole but instead he pinpointed the singular syllable ‘you’ in the final sentence.  
  
“Me?” he repeated, finding it necessary to make sure that he hadn’t heard wrong. “You…were gay for _me?_ ”  
  
Kevin didn’t respond. Whether it was because he was too mortified at having admitted that or something else entirely, Connor didn’t know.  
  
“Well, _that_ certainly explains it,” Connor muttered, shaking his head before telling Kevin that “No matter what, _I_ never would have been able to help you.”  
  
Kevin’s heart must have split in half at this point because he swore he could feel it pounding in his throat while simultaneously plummeting to the floor.  
  
“I didn’t know that you were planning to fix it by kissing me,” Kevin defended himself. If he had known that, he never would had sought Elder McKinley’s assistance in the matter, right? If he had known that, he wouldn’t have allowed it, right?  
  
“If you had _told_ me the situation, I—” What could he have done? The method that they had used was the best one that Connor could think of since he had to create a complete therapy experience on less than a shoestring budget.  
  
“Wouldn’t have helped, but wouldn’t have made things worse,” Kevin finished the sentiment for him.  
  
While that hadn’t actually been what Connor was going to say, he nodded in agreement. He had only succeeded in making Kevin even gayer while throwing himself off the wagon.  
  
The pair of men stood in the darkened hallway in utter silence, unsure of what to do next. Neither of them had been in a situation anything like this before. It could have been a minute or it could have been half an hour before Connor finally broke the silence.  
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Kevin brushed it off though it certainly wasn’t fine. He couldn’t return home like this, a gay mess— over his _district leader_ , of all people! “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”  
  
“It’s not your fault, Elder,” Connor stated comfortingly, reaching out to gently stroke Kevin’s cheekbone. Kevin jerked away from the soft touch. It was gentle and pseudo-romantic but having been with Connor for over a week, he knew that his cheek was about to be subject to another ineffective slap.  
  
“Connor,” Kevin warned, shaking his head. “Connor, it’s not going to work, no matter how much you try. It’s too late and doing this just—”  
  
“Shh,” Connor shushed him, pressing his index and middle fingers against Kevin’s lips. “I know that it didn’t work. I…I don’t know if it ever does, really.”  
  
Kevin furrowed his brow as he tried to make out Connor’s form in the darkness. He did recall Connor telling him before they even started that it wouldn’t work. But, in his stupid idealizing his capabilities, he hadn’t listened and insisted that they try.  
  
“I know,” he resigned. “I just hoped. I thought that I, I don’t know…”  
  
“You thought you’d be different,” Connor confirmed. “That you could be the one exception to the rule.”  
  
“But of fucking course I wasn’t,” Kevin grumbled, shooting a bitter glare over his shoulder to his bedroom. He was never exceptional anymore.  
  
Connor reached out and took Kevin’s warm palm in his own, lacing their fingers together. Kevin stared down through the darkness, finding the outline of their clasped hands. He slid his out of Connor’s barely-there grasp and, to the best of his ability, made eye contact with him.  
  
“Stop trying. It’s not going to work, so stop it.”  
  
“I wasn’t,” Connor informed him. “It’s possible that I was just holding your hand without trying to stop you from being gay.”  
  
Kevin huffed out a sarcastic laugh.  
  
“And why would you want to do that?”  
  
Connor almost didn’t respond. He felt it would be better if he didn’t tell Kevin about how he had grown accustomed to sharing their warmth, how he too had come to crave the fleeting moments in the night, how he had slowly been pushing himself off the wagon each time his lips met Kevin’s and how he didn’t give a darn about it. Instead of staying silent, his mouth incriminated him in the worst way.  
  
“Because I love you.” It took only a second for him to start stutteringly backtracking and trying to explain that what he had _meant_ to say was simply that he too had grown rather fond of Kevin during their attempted conversion and he too had failed in keeping, rather literally, on the straight and narrow.  
  
As it turned out, Kevin didn’t care much for Connor explaining away what he had just said. In fact, he seemed to find it much better if Connor didn’t get halfway through it and silenced him with an urgent kiss. The four words had given him the permission he would never admit that he craved so that he could almost guiltlessly act upon his actions again. If he couldn’t cure this and he was going to go to Hell no matter how much he worked, then why not give in to temptation every once in a while.  
  
Connor’s hands gripped at the sides of Kevin’s head, holding him close as if he simply couldn’t get enough of him. He licked into Kevin’s mouth desperately, as though he had never tasted Kevin before, as if they didn’t kiss so regularly that they had memorized the shape of the other’s mouth.  
  
Because of the familiarity, Kevin could tell that this kiss was completely different from those he’d experienced in the past week and a half. Had he had the words, he would have noted that this was less methodical; even the most experimental of techniques Connor had used against him had still seemed very structured, nearly repetitive, lacking in the passion that he more than made up for now. Now, Connor was savoring everything that he had taken for granted while he had to punish Kevin for allowing him to kiss him at all. He finally appreciated the softness of Kevin’s lips, the radiating warmth from Kevin’s skin, the sturdy frame that Connor granted himself permission to explore, even the faint scent of coffee still lingering around Kevin since his addiction had truly gotten out of control.  
  
When Connor finally pulled back, after seconds or minutes he couldn't tell, breathless from how long he had sacrificed oxygen for the sweet substance that was Kevin Price, he stared through the dark to find his eyes.  
  
“Kevin, I-” Connor began, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
“I know,” Kevin replied just as low. He leaned back against the wall, the only thing separating them from his companion. “Me too.”  
  
Connor’s heart fluttered in his chest and he stepped close, pressing up onto his tiptoes to kiss Kevin once again. This time was brief and sweet and far too little after his desperate kiss mere moments earlier.  
  
“I think…I think we should return to our rooms for the night, Kevin,” Connor stated, cutting himself off. “Please, sweet dreams.”  
  
“I’ll try,” Kevin promised. He reached out and, quickly finding Connor’s arm, slid his hand down to take the district leader’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze.  
  
~  
  
It took nearly a month (during which they still occasionally snuck out of their rooms in order to indulge themselves and each other) before either of them said anything about it. They did not mention their relationship or the circumstances surrounding it; all that was said was that it was in the nature of Arnoldism to let out any feelings and secrets that one may have and that Connor had been living with a very big secret for most of his life—that he liked boys. That he _really_ liked boys and he hoped that both God and his Elders could find it in their hearts to be accepting of this.  
  
After this announcement, many of the Elders turned to Arnold, not quite seeking guidance in this situation but to see what their unofficial prophet had to say about it.  
  
The final judgment was “No worries, it’s fine!” with an enthusiastic thumbs up.  
  
“Turns out Sulu was gay too!” Arnold added the exclamation as if the reference was going to mean something to Connor or most of the others.  
  
Behind him, Elder Michaels leaned over to Elder Neeley and asked “Isn’t that the tentacle-face monster-thing?” while wiggling his fingers at his chin like a squirming beard.  
  
“Oh, no; _that’s_ Cthulhu,” Arnold whipped around and bounded over to the pair to explain the difference between the creature and the _Star Trek_ helmsman.  
  
Connor crossed to Kevin, who had decided to wait a little while before announcing to the district that he too liked boys, just in case anyone could draw any conclusions.  
  
“Amazing,” he laughed, shaking his head at the no-longer interested Elders politely nodding to indulge their unlikely prophet’s bubbly babbling.  
  
“I know,” Kevin agreed with a smile. “He can remember all that but can’t remember Nabulungi’s name.”


End file.
